The Allure of Darkness
by Lenore483
Summary: Impossibility aside, Hermione is back in time. Skin marred with a slur, it doesn't take her long to get enemies, but the green eyes of one Slytherin in particular doesn't seem vicious, only curious. She is adamant not to change anything in the slightest, avoiding both sides of the war and Dumbledores interference. But can one truly be a part of the world and not change it?
1. Panicking

She screamed, the sound almost drowning out Bellatrix maniacal laughter.

She had finished, the word marrying her skin, the torture curse making her twitch every now and then. The pain and humiliation had her head swimming, despair the most prominent emotion, though. How was she supposed to escape this?

She missed whatever Bellatrix spouted off, a single tear running down her cheek.

Harry and Ron shouting her name had her turn towards them. She tried to get away from Bellatrix, but the mad woman dragged her to her feet, the cursed knife digging into the skin of her neck. She struggled against her, but her grip tightened.

Pushing against her she could feel two wands against her right hand, her own and Bellatrix kept in a pocket so close.

She managed to sneak her fingers into the pocket and retrieve both wands.

The wand against her throat made it hard to speak, along with the other tight over her ribcage. She bent her hand so the wands were pointed at Bellatrix, awkward angle and arm tight against her side making it impossible to perform wand movements correctly.

She yelled out a spell, and Bellatrix knife dug into her throat making blood trickle down onto her hand mingling with what trickled down from her new carved scar. The blood flowing freely down to the two wands and then down on the floor.

The last thing she heard as the world went blindingly white and then black, was Harry yelling out "Mione!"

* * *

She hit the floor hard and groaned in pain. There was still blood flowing from the slight cut on her neck, and the carving on her arm. She looked around and noticed she was in exactly the same spot as before, but alone. The foyer was dark, and eerily quiet, a distant sound of footsteps alerted her that she was not alone, but they were walking away from her and seemed too distant to be of significance yet.

To her surprise, there were decorations adorning the room, a Christmas tree in one corner even. She clutched the wands tighter and saw how her blood covered them. Her first thought was to heal the cuts, but she realized it would be for naught as the blade was cursed. Instead, she pocketed one wand and muttered a scourgify to hide the evidence of her blood on the floor.

She never looked down to check it had worked confident in her ability to perform spells like that one. If she had, she would have seen a scorch mark instead of a clean carpet, the Malfoys would never be able to get rid of the mysterious spot that had suddenly appeared over Christmas.

She cautiously walked out into the hallway, trying to remember the layout of this place. First, she had to get to the cellar to get Ron and Harry out. She didn't want to consider the possibility of them being captured by Voldemort. They had to be safe, that was all that mattered.

The nagging sense of wrongness didn't go away, there were, even more, decorations up in the hallways, and when she managed to sneak into the cellar, she found it dusty, like it hadn't been used for years.

She tried to remember spells that could help her figure out what had happened. Why did it seem like Christmas? Where had all the death eaters gone?

She sat down in the dank cellar, head in her hands, sobs wracking her body as despair finally took over.

It seemed like hours had gone by when she finally got herself together. No matter what, she needed to get out of Malfoy manor, she would find her friends later.

Clutching her wand tighter she walked up into the hallways again and saw a lone figure. She hugged to the shadows, trying to stay out of sight when she recognized it.

"Dobby!" she exclaimed, and the house elf turned to look at her. But instead of recognition, she saw confusion.

"Mistress knows Dobby?"

She furrowed her brows "of course I do Dobby, we're friends." the house elfs eyes went wide "Mistress considers Dobby a friend?" his eyes started tearing up, and instead of being alerted that another thing was so horribly wrong Hermione was worried the choked sobs of the house elf would alert someone to their unwanted presence.

"shh, Dobby it's okay. Calm down." she patted him awkwardly on the back, fearfully looking around to see if anyone had come running. But of course, a distressed house elf rarely warranted wizards attention.

"Dobby we need to get out of her before anyone notices us."

"Dobby can't, Dobby needs to serve his Masters."

"what?" she blurted out, confused "but you're a free elf."

"Dobby wishes." his eyes went wide, and he started banging his head on the nearest wall.

"shshh, Dobby, please be quiet, stop hurting yourself."

"Dobby must be punished!" he said in between bbanging his head on the wall.

Hermione tried to hold him back and stop him from punishing himself anymore. Once again reminded why she had started spew, and vowing to co continue her work with it as soon as the war was over.

"what are you doing?" the unfamiliar voice behind her made chills go down her spine. She turned to find a boy her age looking at her who curiosity. His face was unfamiliar but the way he held himself hinted of his aristocratic origins. Maybe a durmstrang student?

Instead of answering, Hermione just stared open mouthed at him, her concentration broken Dobby started running into the wall again. Her eyes snapped towards the elf, but She was stopped from doing anything else as the unknown boy stepped closer.

She stepped between the house elf and the boy, raising her wand to point between his eyebrows that raised at her sudden movement and stance.

"So defensive," he muttered, curiously looking her over. His green eyes lingered on her throat that had been cut, and went down where her blood was running, looking at her arm which was still exposed as Bellatrix had torn the sleeve off earlier.

"Mudblood" he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers as she clutched her wand tighter. "in the Malfoy home, how curious." he stepped closer, but going into full on panic, Hermione yelled out "Expelliarmus!" and with a resounding crack, that must have alerted the whole house she was flung backwards. She hit the wall with a thud, knocking the breath out of her. Absentmindedly she noted her failure had stopped Dobby from continuing to punish himself.

The boy chuckled "Maybe it is true what they say about Mudblood stealing wizards wands."

As he moved closer, Hermione clutched at her sides and throat, desperate to breathe again.

The world slowed down, as her head became light from lack of air and blood. She noticed the boy putting his hand into his pocket, and retrieving a wand from it, his movements elegant and rehearsed.

She heard the rush of blood in her veins, and the steady beat of her heart that seemed to slow down.

Somewhere people had woken up or started moving to find out what the ruckus was about. She could hear the sounds of voices getting louder, and steps coming closer.

Thud. Thud. Went her heart.

Dobby snapped his fingers and repaired the damage he had done, he snapped them again and repaired the wall behind Hermione.

Thud...

Thud…

Steps, voices, slowly blinking her eyes, making the world turn black for too long.

With a gasp her lungs filled with air again, and the world righted itself.

Everything faster now. She looked at the wand in her arm and noticed it was not her own. Quickly she grabbed hers, the one still left in her pocket and flung it in a well-rehearsed movement that petrified the boy in front of her. He dropped his wand as his body stiffened and he fell face first onto the floor.

Dobby stared at her in shock and disappeared before she could do anything else.

Hermione kicked the wand away from the unknown enemy at her feet, maybe it was watching all those cop movies that made her do it, she didn't really have time to think about it as the voices seemed to be around the corner.

She ran, seeing a blur of black and blonde hair behind a door that was opening to her left. Throwing a reducto at the door had them cursing as she ran even faster, adrenaline pumping and keeping her going.

It didn't take long before they started following her, but she was out the front door, pushing herself even more as she ran down towards the gate and where she knew the wards stopped.

Or where she hoped at least.

Knowing how stupid it probably was, she threw a look over her shoulder to find a dozen people following her, some not too far behind.

The gates were locked. She knew the doors had been pure luck, but this was bad.

Desperately she tried to apparate, only to feel the pressure of the wards bearing down on her.

They were only a few steps behind her when she decided to just climb the Damn thing, magic be damned.

A hand grasped her foot, and she was almost pulled down from the gate, but a well aimed (and very lucky as she had terrible aim) kick to the presumed death eaters face made him let go.

Two others had also gotten close now, but she was too far up the gate to be reached. Spells were fired, but she somehow managed to duck them. Now at the top one of them had the great idea to open the gates so she would still be within the wards.

Desperate to get away Hermione jumped off and away from the property. Seeing one of them triumphantly standing below her ready to catch the falling witch, she tried to apparate away.

Somehow she managed, but not before the wizard below managed to get a hold of her hand.

The sadistic and familiar face smiling at her, crushing her hopes of escaping safely.

* * *

 **Authors Note: I know I'm horrible for starting this when I have two others going. But the idea was there and I couldn't help myself. This is probably going to be a lot shorter than "My Father the Dark Lord" is turning out to be.**

 **thoughts? Who was the boy, and who was the familiar face Hermione was not happy to have tag along? And when will she figure out what happened? Anyone notice how it happened?**


	2. Freezing

Arriving she wrenched herself away from the man that had come with her.

She stumbled to her feet, as the man did the same.

"Dolohov"

He raised an eyebrow at her "you know me"

"I remember you" she corrected, as she glanced at her wand, double checking it was still her wand she was holding. Bellatrix's wand had so far been more trouble than help.

He held his wand down at the side, both prepared to take the other one down, but neither making the first move, sizing each other up to try and determine a weakness or strength to see who would win.

He cocked his head to the right, like a puppy would but this man looked more like a pit bull ready to kill. "I can't seem to recall you."

"I guess those masks make it hard to see." she responded.

Sick of waiting she fired a spell.

A simple protego with a flick of his wand protected Dolohov from the low-level hex she sent.

He laughed at her "or maybe you're not worth remembering."

Enraged Hermione started throwing more curses at him, the speed making it harder for him to keep up, and the look of surprise saying he had not expected it.

But he was far more advanced than her, and like at the department of mysteries she started losing.

A cut slipped through, hitting her in the left leg and making her wobble. As she cried out in surprised pain, he stepped closer. Unable to move backwards with a hurt leg on the uneven ground of the forest he was soon too close to her.

The close proximity had more spells slipping through both defenses, Hermione hitting him right over his left eye, Dolohov hitting her on her right shoulder. She then hit him on his hip, making him wobbly as well, and he grew angry.

And he sent a purple curse her way, this time, he wasn't silenced, and remembering how it ended last time made Hermione panic.

Time slowed down again, Hermione was frozen to the spot. In the last second, before she was hit, she threw herself to the side on the ground, landing on her stomach, knocking her wand out of her own hands.

"shit" she swore, seeing the wand land out of her reach. Hearing him moving closer she turned around so she was on her back looking up at the imposing figure of Antonin Dolohov.

"now you'll become just another body left to rot in the woods."

Still having Bellatrix wand, she prayed that this once it would work. "not if I can help it."

The surprised look on his face was priceless. The curse was anything but light, the gaping hole in his stomach that he looked down on evidence of that.

Hermione wanted to throw up. Dolohov fell together in a heap on the snow covered ground of the forest of Dean. Blood trickled out of his side, his expression frozen in that surprise. Soon a circle of blood surrounded him, and the wound started to freeze over in the winter cold.

She threw away the wand, disgusted with herself and the way it felt. At first, she had felt relief, then she just felt this emptiness, a hole in her gaping open like the one she had made in Dolohov.

She started crying, her body shivering with the effort. After a while, she stopped crying, now shivering because of the cold seeping through what little clothes she had on.

The tears had frozen on her cheeks before she pulled herself together and stood up. Her body had difficulty because of the injuries she had sustained. Her breathing was heavy, every intake of air burning in her lungs making her even colder.

She picked up her wand and made to leave. For some reason, she stopped something in her telling her she couldn't leave the other wand.

She looked over her shoulder at where it lay, the dark wood stark against the frozen ground it lay on. Except the area around it wasn't frozen anymore. It was melted, the ground actually scorched. Evil radiated from it and it gave Hermione chills.

She tried to turn her back on it and leave but this nagging feeling continued. If it was so evil, why couldn't she just leave it?

Almost turning blue she knew she had to leave before she got hypothermia, but her entire concentration was on that evil dark stick.

Feeling starting to leave her fingertips, she sighed and picked it up, warmth spreading from it to the rest of her body. She looked at it like it had betrayed her somehow, and slipped it into her pocket before turning on the spot and apparating away from the scene of the murder she had just committed.

* * *

 **can't promise this quick updates all the time, but shorter chapters mean quicker updates ;)**


	3. Sleeping

_Thanks to AliceEnchanted and lalyta8 for their lovely reviews!_

* * *

Landing in a clearing, she didn't pause to try and fix all of her injuries. If she didn't get warmth and shelter it wouldn't matter if she fixed her injuries, she would die of hypothermia.

She started with her usual spells and then did every single other spell she could think of, knowing that she wouldn't have the energy in a long while to protect herself.

After that she fell to her knees, too tired to stand. Rummaging through her beaded bag she finally found the tent. Experienced by now, it only took her a minute to get it up and in perfect condition.

She crawled the few meters between her and the tent, collapsing on the inside of the flaps. With a mutter and tired flick of her wrist, she had the tent closed and put up warming spells.

Plunging into the bag again, she retrieved a blood replenishing potion and downed it hoping it would be enough with her enormous blood loss.

She had also found her bottle of dittany and smeared some over her various wounds. She knew the rough treatment meant the scarring would be that much worse, but she had no way of getting medical attention, and she was all alone.

Curling into a fetal position she started crying. A few seconds later she collapsed with exhaustion, the welcoming blackness taking over her.

* * *

Hours later she woke up to the sound of an owl hooting. She could swear it was daylight, her body hurt from sleeping on the floor. A little later she had managed to get to the bed that still smelled off all of them.

* * *

She woke again, aching and thirsty. This time, all she managed was drinking some water before she again collapsed to the sound of an , she regained full consciousness, and her body protested against going on an empty stomach. They had been out of food again before the snatchers had taken them. She didn't know who's turn it was, but being all alone meant it didn't really matter.

With a trip to the bathroom and drinking some more water she checked on her wounds.

They had stopped bleeding but looked like they would become nasty scars later, the Mudblood one, in particular, standing out. She cleaned them again and changed out of her ruined clothes.

Walking outside she realized she had chosen a location close to a tiny village that thankfully had heaps of food. There were a quaint bakery and a grocery store she could get food from. It was late in the day, though, so she would have to either steal food or see what they had recently thrown out.

She packed the tent, surmising that she needed to keep moving. She had no idea if they were getting close to her or not, or who was looking for her.

Before collapsing the wards she put the invisibility cloak over herself, just to be careful. There wasn't much she could do with the traces of her staying in the clearing, it had snowed that night but none of it had come within her dome of protection.

Finding the village wasn't hard, but the shops seemed to have changed. There was now no grocery shop or bakery in sight. But there was a pub that seemed to be closing early, or maybe she had been walking for longer than she thought. She saw a man go out back and throw out some food.

In her starved state it looked delicious, so she grabbed most of it. When she saw the owl nearby she panicked, thinking this might be a wizarding village, or had some residing there. Without much more thought she ran.

It took her a couple of streets down before she realized it would be much simpler to just apparate.

The next place was not ideal, but she was getting fatigued after being fed. The tent was hastily put up before she scrambles inside and into bed.

Waking up she felt like she had wasted so much time. Vowing to not spend more time than necessary when it came to sleeping, she set out to find a way to figure out what had happened.

Wracking her brain came up with little result. She was still the most wanted muggleborn in Britain, even if Harry was still kept captive, she wouldn't even dare think that he could be worse of.

Her heart ached to think about Ron lost too, her hope for him being fine had started to dwindle, and just when she had forgiven him, at least in her heart.

But she hadn't told him, not properly.

Shaking herself out of her misery, she thought about her options.

She could go back, but the place would still be crawling with death eaters, and she had no way of knowing the layout of the place, or a way of getting information. The place was probably warded up so tight not even a fly could get in.

She could try and get to Hogwarts. There the wards would let her in, but she had the same issue with death eaters. Also, showing up without her two best friends and only knowing what little she did, her other friends would not be happy to see her.

She could try and get to the order. But they had already tried that with Luna's dad, and that had been a disaster.

Luna is probably still held captive somewhere.

With a sinking heart, she realized another of her friends was missing.

The Weasleys would be a good place maybe, but they were under heavy surveillance, and showing up there without her friends, would be worse than at Hogwarts. She didn't know any other houses of the members either.

Her best option would be the same thing Ron had done, the thing that in a way landed them in that position. She had to try the radio.

For what felt like weeks, Hermione stayed vigilant next to the radio, muttering the member and alias of everyone in the Order of the Phoenix. She also finished her translation of "Tales of Beedle the bard" from runes, hoping it might allude to a plan Dumbledore had hidden within the pages. But there was nothing more, only children's stories that gave her little comfort.

At nights she'd toss and turn, thinking of all the things that might have happened to them, blaming herself and avoiding facing the fact that she had killed somebody.

When she became so thin her bones started protruding, and she still didn't have any luck, she decided to risk exposure.

She found the last drops of polyjuice and took out the cloak. She would venture to Diagon Alley, hoping to find news there.

She apparated down the street from the pub and snuck through it in the shadows. Everything seemed so different, but Hermione was too tired, too hungry and unwilling to see that the world was not right. Her deepest fear was that she had been away for months and now the world was under Voldemort reign, all her friends dead or captured.

She snuck in after drinking the polyjuice potion. When she smelled Tom's cooking and heard her stomach growling, she couldn't help but sit down and order a meal.

Her tiny frame could only just handle half of the meal, so she scooped the rest in a plastic bag to save for later when she was sure the waitress was looking away.

With a start, she looked at the clock to see herself running out of time. Looking around in desperation she spotted a newspaper left behind and snagged it.

The headline reported more muggles under attack from you know who.

She briefly relaxed, the headline meant the world wasn't under Voldemorts control, he must not have gotten a hold of Harry.

Out of time, and knowing she couldn't risk being discovered, Hermione fled.

She brought the newspaper with her but never bothered to look at the date.

* * *

 **promise the next Chapter has way more action, this is lacking I know sorry about that... felt like it needed this though. Next Chapter is probably going to be up on Sunday or Monday, depending on how crazy this weekend gets. My other story (My Father the Dark Lord) will be updated tomorrow I think...**

 **Xx**


	4. Burying

Arriving in another clearing she had been with Harry, Hermione decided she needed to take a walk. She needed a new location.

The hike took her the rest of the day, she didn't stop until she couldn't see anything anymore, lighting up her wand would give her away if she walked by it too long.

For putting up the tent, she would need light, however, so she lit her wand.

A huge explosion burst out of it, blowing away the tree nearest her, and pushing her up into the air.

She landed painfully on her bum. Looking down she again saw Bellatrix wand. Angry at herself for picking that one again, and angry at the wand for being so uncontrollable.

The explosion had created a decent place for her to put up the tent, the ground being nice and flat now. She took out her own wand and set it up, going inside and putting away the food and newspaper before crawling into bed.

The days were pointless now. It was hard getting up when you had no purpose any longer, and no company. She stayed up late trying to figure out how to find Harry and had difficulty sleeping. She kept moving, figuring that Harry and Ron might still be on the run, and hiding at one of the places they had been before.

So she spent her days roaming forest after forest yelling out their names, and nights sitting by the radio trying to get it to work again, to tell her some news.

Unable to keep going at this pace Hermione started practicing spells with her wands, both of them. Where her own one was a trusted good wand, Bellatrix old one did not work. But one day she was trying it out she noticed the newspaper she had left lying on the bedside table weeks earlier. The date was wrong.

With a lump in her throat, she approached the innocent paper lying there.

27 of March 1977

How could that be?

77?

19 years before?

Why was the paper still lying out and about then?

And why did it look so new?

She remembered picking it up and it had smelled of fresh printing ink, a smell Hermione adored.

It must be under a stasis charm. That's it, somebody kept it in perfect condition for some reason.

Hastily, she picked the paper up, desperately looking through it to find a clue as to why somebody would keep a paper from the previous war.

Forgetting her plans for the day, and the need for her to go out and get more food since it had been days since the last time she ate, she delved into it.

An entire day of looking through it, but nothing stood out. There were muggles who had died, but no witches or wizard. So it wasn't a sentimental reason for it. Especially since there was no mention of weddings or births.

None of the attacks or events in the paper had any lasting significance in the wizarding world, Hermione had most of the events of the first war memorized. None of which were mentioned in the paper.

She eventually fell asleep fretting over the paper.

The second she woke up the following day, she pulled out every book she had and found the ones about history.

Cross-Referencing and fact checking for another couple of days led her nowhere. There was no reason for anyone to keep this paper, none whatsoever.

Completely freaking out, Hermione walked out of the tent. The chaos she created in her wake would have left Bellatrix and Harry green with envy. Wielding the wand, she blew up, set fire to, and leveled most of the forest around her. After doing that for a couple of minutes, she started calming down.

Then she cried. Her entire world was crashing down around her, but she was still not alright with what she had read, it couldn't be true.

When she heard voices coming, she ran back into her dome of protection.

The moment she was inside it, the people attached to said voices moved over a nearby hill.

"Definitely magical."

The other man just hummed in response. Both took out their wands and started casting spells, one doing detection magic, the other trying to clean it all up.

"Strange." the first man said.

The other hummed again.

"The signature is conflicting, like two melding together."

The second commented "whoever is, he is strong. I can barely take the stint off the damage."

"Unless it's a she…"

The other laughed "What witch has this sort of power?" Hermione bristled with anger at the masochistic statement.

"The one that follows you-know-who."

They looked at each other in shock. The second man commented, "that has never been confirmed."

"I've gone through the magical signatures after all the attacks. This one is very similar to one that shows up on almost every single one."

 _Bellatrix_

"Except…"

"What?"

"I can't tell exactly why this one is different."

 _Because I'm not Bellatrix!_ She thought bitterly, the wand in her hand burning her momentarily. In shock she dropped it, realizing it was not her own wand, but Bella's. She missed what they had been saying until one commented that "they were probably nearby"

In a rush, Hermione started taking down the tent. She remembered Scabior and the snatchers being unable to even notice her dome, but these two weren't second-rate wizards for hire.

They might be tired ministry employee's, but that just meant they had a range of different tools at their disposal which Hermione had no idea of.

She flung the invisibility cloak over herself and collapsed the wards.

"Did you feel that?"

"That way." the second man said, pointing straight at Hermione. Unwilling to take any more chances, she twirled and apparated away.

The second she felt the ground underneath her she started throwing up. Except she hadn't eaten for days and ended up just dry heaving.

Then she curled up and cried for a while.

 _Come on, pick yourself up! You are a smart, level headed Gryffindor, and you can get through this!_

She wiped her tears and found a new resolve. She would get to the bottom of what was going on.

The next day she risked more than ever before, she went to Hogsmeade underneath the invisibility cloak. Harry had managed to not bump into anyone in his ventures, and Hermione prided herself in being way more careful than him.

All of the papers said 1977, just like the one in her tent. Some were on the newspaper stands, some were littered on the ground by careless people. All of them with different dates, except for the year.

She even witnessed a man signing for something and putting down the date -77. She went into the bookstore, the newest publications all saying the same thing. Brand new but on the inside, the date was 77.

She had traveled back in time.

She had left everyone she had ever known behind.

And she had killed a man.

In her despair, Hermione had hidden in the bookstore. She needed the comfort of books around her, a constant in the otherwise chaotic world.

At first, she had managed to hide from the truth of what she had done to Dolohov. Then part of her had excused it by thinking of all the horrible stuff he had done in the past.

Now that she knew the date, she had to deal with the fact that the man might have never harmed anyone before he that fateful Christmas crossed her path.

Part of her doubted that, but guilt clouded her mind. The dusty tomes surrounding her bringing her little comfort.

I killed someone.

 _I can never change that._

But I can give him a proper burial.

Sneaking out of the store in the wee hours of the morning, she was certain she saw an owl following her. Brushing it off as paranoia, she apparated to the forest where she had killed him.

The stench was overbearing, and again she started dry heaving, her stomach turning on itself in disgust.

Flies, bugs and all other sorts of tiny creatures had collected around the man. In many places she could see bone, bigger animals having had a bite of the corpse. He was more skeleton than man at this point.

Afraid of leaving a signature, she used the man's wand that lay nearby untouched and dug him a grave. Then she levitated the rotting corpse into it and covered it up. She made a gravestone out of nearby rocks and put the man's name on it. But she didn't know when he was born, nor the date he had died.

 _You mean the day you killed him_.

Shaking her head to try and get rid of the thought didn't really help.

"I feel like I should say something." but no other words came naturally to her. After a long pause, she tried to continue.

"Antonin Dolohov was a pureblooded man who followed his master until it brought him to an early grave in the middle of nowhere. May his memory live on to tell of his folly."

It may not be the words that the man would condone, but it patched up part of the hole that had been left in Hermione's soul after she had killed him. She bent down and left his wand on the gravestone. It hadn't helped much, but Hermione knew it was a step in the right direction.

* * *

 **So now that she knows, any guesses to what she will do next?**

 **Thanks to my lovely reviewers AliceEnchanted and** **lalyta8! And thank you to everyone that is following or has put this story in their favorites.**

 **For anyone interested I put up a poll on my profile where you can vote for pairings for new fics. Those polls have no effect on the stories I have already started on but will help decide on what to write next.**

 **Xx**


	5. Testing

Guilt, wracking her body, leaving her a stumbling mess.

"Harry!" she cried out, watching the boy disappear in mist, him turning to look at her. He was still vanishing until all she could see was the green eyes and his scar.

"Harry!" she called out again, running towards him. But they changed, became red, his scar still there. The mist turned green around him, lifting his body up as it turned into a mixture of him and Voldemort.

"No." she choked out, stopping before she got near the horrible man.

"You know Hermione. I think you've known for a while."

"Harry." she choked again, falling to her knees. "Please let him go, let Harry go."

The two separated, mist pushing them apart until boy and man stood to face each other, Hermione standing in the middle.

"Step aside silly girl," Voldemort said, she turned and looked at him.

"No. Please take me instead!"

"Hermione." She turned and looked at Harry, his green eyes filled with compassion. She scrambled to her feet and ran over to him. He breathed in deeply "One last Hermy-hug before I go." when they parted she was crying, and he wiped her tears. "It was always going to end like this. You can't change the past Hermione"

Then he pushed her aside as Voldemort yelled out "Avada Kedavra!"

"HARRY!" she screamed as her best friend slumped to the ground. She gathered him in her arms, crying over his lifeless body.

"Go ahead." she looked around, trying to figure out where the familiar voice was coming from. From behind her, she saw Ron coming towards her. "You've done it before."

She looked to her hands where he was pointing and Harry was gone, instead, she saw Bellatrix's wand, the wand of destruction and death. "Finish him."

"Ron I can't." she pleaded.

"Kill Voldemort Hermione."

"I can't change the past."

"Haven't you heard?" he said jokingly "it's 1977, and you're a killer."

She woke with a start, cold sweat all over her body. Her head swam with the disturbing images in her dream, and she wondered why her nightmare was like that.

Part of her had been happy to see them both again because it was like they were still there with her.

She took a shower for the first time since arriving in the past. Somehow her mind had been too preoccupied with it before. But it couldn't wash away the disturbing images of the dream. Nor the guilt she felt for killing Dolohov.

She dressed in clean clothes and started washing.

"Spring cleaning always helps to clear the mind" her mother used to say. But hours later, the entire tent and every item of clothing or thing she owned washed, she didn't feel better. So she cleaned them again, like a muggle. And again like a witch or wizard. But after a day of cleaning everything, nothing had changed.

She had started crying halfway through. Her hands were raw from scrubbing, her knees hurt from the crouched position along with her back.

Going to sleep she felt restless and could not fall into darkness. When she finally did, it was a fitful half-sleep that left her worse off than if she hadn't slept at all.

Not having to look for Ron and Harry, knowing they were safe, heck they weren't even born yet! She had little to do during the day. She tried to read, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Dolohov, smiling that sadistic smile as he caught her, looking at her in surprise when she killed him, and then lying dead and rotting in a beautiful green forest. It was like flashes of a horror show, playing over in her mind again and again.

Reading was also pointless as every book had been read and reread so many times she could recite any and all verbatim. She practiced with her wands, getting as skillful one can get being self-tutored.

One wand did light spells, intricate work, and beautiful things. The other did darker spells, destructive ones and tougher spells, the one she had previously not thought herself magically strong enough for before.

The only thing she could not cast was a Patronus. Part of her was surprised to learn this, but the other part wondered if you could ever cast one after killing someone.

The only constant in her life now was insomnia, guilt and the emptiness accompanying it.

* * *

It took her time to get used to walking out in public. She started slowly by just walking around the Forest, then in villages near wherever she was staying, before she would take the big plunge and go to Diagon Alley.

Her plan was to be a ghost, she couldn't risk becoming a part of society. In her relentless pursuit of knowledge she had even read up on time travel theory, and she knew what the butterfly effect was. One small change, a friend they didn't have before, a kind or cruel word exchanged, a bug you stepped on. Any small thing could change history forever.

But she needed books, she needed to know if there was any solution to her predicament. Muggle or magical she didn't care. If she could just freeze herself for 19 years everything would be fine, nothing would have changed.

Magical coins she had plenty of, Harry wasn't good at math and had just taken out "a couple of bags, just in case we need it." Which translated to being enough to rent a mansion for a couple of years and live like kings. But at the time they had no way of getting it back to Gringotts and Harry didn't see the problem. Now Hermione thanked her friend for being such an idiot, he had saved her a lot of trouble.

She needed to exchange some of it into muggle money, the coins she had were all printed 5~10 years later. And therefore, would be forced to go to Gringotts.

It all went smoothly, to Hermione's surprise. When she exited the bank, however, an owl landed on her shoulder, hooting angrily in her ear. She looked at it in surprise, the creature giving her the stink eye.

"What did I do to you?" she asked, she knew they must be somewhat aware of what people said. Hedwig being a prime example of how smart wizarding owls got.

The owl hooted again and stuck out its leg to give her a letter. Surprised at receiving mail she removed it while scratching the owl, the beige thing purring in her ear, content. Guess it had forgiven her.

When she opened the letter she saw the date and realized why it had been so angry. This must have been the owl she occasionally heard or saw when she was out and about. It had been following her for months.

 _Dear Hermione Granger_

 _It has come to our attentions that you have not partaken in the Ordinary Wizarding Levels standardized test._

 _We request your presence at the Ministry of Magic at your earliest convenience to take your O.W.L.s. You are then expected to start schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to go on to N.E.W.T.s as we can't find records of you having a magical guardian._

 _Failure to comply with these demands will result in an Auror from the Ministry of Magic taking your wand and imprisonment at Azkaban prison._

 _Signed_

 _Perry S. Huffman_

Hermione sighed. So much for staying under the radar.

She went to the Ministry the same day to make appointments to sit her O.W.L.s. The lady that helped her was scandalized when she heard that Hermione was walking around without going to school and had failed to take the standardized test. It turned out to be less about helping her figure out where and when and with whom to take the test with and more about yelling at her.

She fretted, of course, about sitting test she hadn't studied for. But it turned out to be incredibly easy for her and she received full marks in all her subjects.

Leaving the Ministry after getting the results of her tests several weeks later, she felt a strange bubble of excitement in her stomach.

She was going home.

* * *

 **Terribly sorry for my mistake in the last chapter. Somehow my mind thinks 77 and writes 97 -.-**

 **Thanks for the lovely reviews from AliceEnchanted and** **dani asmar potter** **who made me aware of this. And thanks for the lovely review from** **arabellagrace** **as well as every one of you that has favorites and followed this story.**

 **Xx**


	6. Moving

She got the letter from Hogwarts telling her what she would need for school, along with everything she would need to know about getting there. The bubble of excitement that had been fluttering around in her stomach turned to dread and lead.

With a lump in her throat, she walked around Diagon Alley, buying all the things she would need for school.

The feeling had sort of crept up on her, and she couldn't explain it, not really. But there it was tormenting her day which should be somewhat joyous as it marked the beginning of a life outside the shadows.

Truth was, she was scared what it might entail, what might happen if she inadvertently did something that changed the future.

What if she changed someone by becoming their friend?

What if she accidentally revealed something that hasn't happened yet?

What if something she did ended up having a ripple effect, changing one thing that led into another and another, until finally there was a huge change in the timeline that was pivotal to the light side winning?

What if her actions, however, small or trivial, ended up killing or hurting someone she loved?

What if James Potter fell in love with her?

That ridiculous thought had her snort in amusement. Then she laughed a bit more, and before she knew it, she was doubled over, laughing at such a ludicrous thought.

That is one thing I can be assured will not happen. The epic love story of James and Lily was fixed in time, not something little old Hermione could ever come between. Only an epic love like theirs could create such a powerful magical person as Harry, her best friend.

She shook her head, her heart a little lighter as she continued on with her shopping.

A small part of her wondered what using these coins would do, did the goblins count them as forgeries since they were double in production? It wasn't like she had duplicated them with magic, and the magical community didn't have stuff like serial numbers on their coins. Keeping her mind occupied with the thought of confused goblins looking at the coins had her distracted from the darker thoughts she had been troubled with.

It didn't mean the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach stopped, it might have even increased. She was just getting better at distracting herself from the implications of her actions.

In her readings, she had come across the "butterfly effect" stating that something as simple as the flutter of a butterfly's wings could end up causing a tornado on the other side of the earth. This had been related to theories on time travel, which were all speculations in the muggle world. In the magical realm, there had been some disconcerting research published. She didn't want to linger on it, but it basically said that outside of time turners it was a horrible idea that could in no way end well.

Her purchases were aimed halfway at the curriculum, and the other (much larger and not exactly) half was what she could or would need for the upcoming year. Some of that were trivial stuff, like clothes to make her fit in (she opted for wizarding robes, uncomfortable with muggle fashion in the late 70s) while different stuff was ingredients for potions in case she got hurt, or for polyjuice potion (it did have a habit of coming in handy). Buying books were half of her expenses, which was to be expected when she had a huge pouch filled with money, and every intention of burying herself in said books instead of making acquaintances.

At the end of the day, she hesitated for a moment in going out into the woods again. It would be nice to sleep somewhere civil for one night. But then she decided against it, one more night of sleeping where memories of Harry and Ron surrounded her was nice. Even if the next day, she was going to Hogwarts which was filled with memories of all of her friends.

The woods were freeing, she didn't have to pretend she belonged, she could just be. Much like if she was immersed in a book, the mask she had crafted for herself when she was so young didn't fall into place. The only other time she could just be herself was with Harry and Ron, as they could with her.

1st of September and she walked onto the crowded platforms of Kings Cross, crossing her fingers and clutching her bag. She had traded her tiny beaded bag out for a more contemporary bag, a leather satchel that matched the trunk she was dragging behind her. She finally found a cart to put her, or rather Harry's old, trunk on, and breathed easy. When she was nearing the entry between muggle and magical world, she noticed the curious, and often sneering looks directed at her from other wizards and witches.

Knowing no one wasn't easy, especially when you're a 7th year.

Instead of lingering on the platform and feel sorry for herself, she levitated her trunk with her onto the express, still with 15 minutes to go before the train left promptly at 11 o clock.

She found an empty compartment and settled down with a book. Losing herself in it, she relaxed again, clutching her satchel closer. It felt unfamiliar to her, and she once again went over her reasoning for not staying with her beaded bag.

Her charms on the bag had started wearing thin, but she could always cast them again. The bag wasn't contemporary, but then nothing ever really was in the wizarding world, at least not in her opinion. It was a painful reminder of her past, but it was also a tangible link, something that kept her grounded and left her feeling safe.

In the end, she had opted for the leather bag simply because it fit her books without people questioning it. Therefore, she could easily carry it with her everywhere, making it easy for her to bolt if needed. Her beaded bag was tiny enough that she could hide it in most of her robes, but it was also too big to not be noticeable so it wasn't as convenient.

She had charmed the satchel with more spells than she had on the other one. The most important one being two compartments, one if anybody else went looking that just had her school books, and the other one that was only accessible to her, which held everything her beaded bag had done before, including the bag in question, she didn't have the heart to part with it.

One hand held the book open, her eyes flittering over the page as the fingers of her other hand released the tight hold on her bag. Instead, she took up absentmindedly letting her fingers skim along the leather, feeling the texture under her fingertips. She was sitting with her feet up on the seat so she could rest her back on the window, and have the book propped up against her knees. This also meant she had a perfect view of the compartment door without having to do anything but look slightly over the top of her book.

Curiosity seemed to get the better of her, and she kept glancing up at the book whenever anybody would pass her door. Many returned her curious gaze while some looked at her with malice, she guessed they were purebloods she would have to avoid in the future.

* * *

A few compartments down Evan Rosier sat with the rest of his classmates from Slytherin. The four other boys were caught up in discussing what they had been doing that summer. All of them trying to top the others in some way or the other. Evan was busier staring out the window, looking at the passing greenery and contemplating life and friends. He was all rather bored with them, at times he wished he had been placed in Gryffindor. Not because of the bravery, but for the sheer recklessness that some of them showed. It would be fun to see up close how idiotic they could be. Being a Gryffindor would have provided him with hours of entertainment.

As Severus delivered one of his sarcastic remarks at something Mulciber had said, he couldn't help but smirk while the other two boys laughed. Being with like minded people might not be as bad as he sometimes made it out to be, it certainly had the perk of not acting all saintly, like that Potter kid Snape hated so much did all the time.

When they mentioned the girl sitting a few compartments down, he suddenly paid attention.

"What girl?"

"No one knows. Must be a Mudblood from the way she dresses, appalling taste." Yaxley drawled. Evan had his doubts about Yaxley's unhealthy obsession with clothes. Yaxley, of course, attributed it to his pureblood upbringing, but none of the other boys cared beyond wearing what their mother bought them.

"Should be fun to mess with," Avery said with that creepy glint in his eyes, Rosier didn't care to comment, knowing some of his sadistic tendencies. Snape narrowed his eyes a little at the word Mudblood, which Evan couldn't help but notice.

"Anything to say there Snape?" their eyes met, unblinking and harsh "As I recall you don't have a problem yelling it out for the whole school to hear."

He could see the bristling anger behind Snape's eyes, he loved it when they were easy to bait. It was the reason he let Snape linger around him when he wanted protection from Gryffindors. After a fight against said Gryffindors years previously, where wands had been forgotten and Evan had shown exactly why he was so respected in Slytherin, the Gryffindors laid low when he was around. Snape had still tried to bait them but stopped when he discovered Evan could just as easily walk away and leave him to the wolves as he was to protect him against the Marauders. Evan did whatever took his fancy at the time. Now Snape kept walking the fine line between being fun to tease, and annoying to protect. Which was why he never stood up to Evan when he harassed him.

"What was that Mudbloods name again?" he broke eye contact with Snape to look at Avery who bore a cruel smirk. "Do you remember Avery?"

"Lily Evans I believe." he said in his usual dark threatening voice "A tasty Mudblood that one."

Rosier noticed Snape's clenched fist as he tried to control himself.

"Not too bad with clothes either" Yaxley commented thoughtfully.

Evan rolled his eyes and looked out of the window, sensing they were done with the fun for today. "Try not to be so obvious Yaxley, or you're going to have to start dating again to get your dad off your back."

He groaned "don't remind me. I still can't get that Brown chick to stay away."

"Serves you right for dating her," Avery commented.

"She was the only one desperate enough I believe." Snape offered, looking fearfully at Evan who paid them no mind, afraid that he might start up on the subject of Lily again.

"At least, he can get a date," Mulciber said to Snape, to everyone's surprise. It was rare for the guy to come with such stinging remarks. Evan laughed, easing the tension in the compartment.

He looked away from the window again. "So the new Mudblood?"

"She seems boring," Mulciber said.

"How so?"

"She's reading a book," Yaxley said, trying to hide his laugh. Mulciber was well known for his aversion to books. Someone had said that he might actually catch on fire if he ventured into the library like muggles believed witches and wizards would do if they entered a church.

"Any actual information about her?" he tried.

"She didn't have any troubles finding or getting on the platform. She doesn't seem to know anybody and only brought a simple looking trunk and that satchel she clutches tightly." Avery said.

"So nothing really?" Avery shrugged in response, so Evan tuned out of the conversation again.

He was lost in thought, mostly trivial stuff, but found it often returned to the mysterious girl he had yet to see. Fresh blood was always fun, even if just for the sake of figuring out the mystery of who she was. The entertainment might only last for a few days, but it was something before classes started up.

He was broken from his thoughts much later when the boys stood to change into their robes. He stood up and did the same, hoping to maybe get a glimpse of the mystery girl.

Walking up to the carriages he heard the big Oaf yell out for the firsties and a "Miss Granger." a name was a start, but he didn't get a glimpse of her. And he wasn't about to actually make an effort to see a mysterious, potentially boring, Mudblood.

It wasn't until after the Hat had sung his ridiculous song he caught sight of her for the first time. As she turned around and sat on the stool his drink caught and he spluttered. He quickly got control of himself again and glared at his peers to make them shut up.

This wasn't the first time he had seen her, it was her, the Mudblood he had caught sight of last Christmas at Malfoy's Manor. Seemed like this Mudblood had potential to be entertaining for a long time.

The secret of how she had gotten into Malfoy Manor was one thing, but why was she there? Where had she been between then and now, and what had happened to Dolohov? Nobody had seen him again after that night.

The hat yelled out "Gryffindor!", and she took it off with a smile to the roaring applause from her house.

The second the hat moved above her eyes, she locked eyes with Evan, and the smile fell from her face. She stopped the rise from the stool for a second, her mouth opening in surprise. He smirked back at her, glad she recognized him from so long ago. The moment seemed to be suspended in time, as the two obvious enemies realized exactly how the game had changed. Miss Granger might have had the upper hand at Malfoy Manor when she caught him by surprise. But here was Rosier's home turf, he had that advantage, and her noble Gryffindor housemates might not be as welcoming if they heard a few of the things Evan had to say about their little encounter. Evan relished in the feeling of already having leverage over the new girl, ready for the game to start.

She shook her head, breaking their intense eye contact, plastering on an obviously fake smile before she moved to the Gryffindor table.

"I call dibs on the new Mudblood boys," he said, eyes never leaving her form. None of the boys dared question him, Snape looked over to the girl in question feeling sorry for her. She had no idea what kind of trouble she had just landed herself in.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Sorry for the long wait. I've written a lot of stuff lately but for later chapters (have started 4 other chapters before I started this one...)**

 **Thanks for the follows and favs, and of course for the lovely reviews; AliceEnchanted, purple breeze, and kmb3 (Longer chapter as requested). Keep up the love, and know that all of it, but especially reviews spur me on and make me post new chapters faster.**

 **A lot of the stuff mentioned in this chapter will turn up later, and finally, we see a bit more of Rosier! Even got his POV and Hermione is at Hogwarts! This story is probably my priority now as I want to start a Fremione story (which is mapped out in my head) and I promised myself not to start it until I finished this one.**

 **Xx**


	7. Meeting

She quietly picked at her food, listening in on the conversations going on around her. Apparently Lily Evans had gotten the head girl position (something she remembered Harry telling her at some point.) and there was, therefore, a bed available in the dormitory, which everyone thought was lucky, because where would you find an extra bed?

It took a lot of willpower to not throw Hogwarts A History at them, but she managed. She should have been used to how oblivious people were after hanging out with Harry and Ron for so many years. She just thought after 7 years in Hogwarts Castle wizards and witches should have been used to the magic that permeated the castle.

It was easy enough to avoid talking to people, she had sat far away from everyone, and they were too busy with their own friends. Or they happened to be apprehensive about the mysterious new girl. She feigned shyness when somebody turned a curious eye on her, unwilling to offer more than one word at a time, or shrugging her shoulders.

Of all the people there, she was happiest about not having to deal with Harry's mom, it was strange enough to be in another century, having to deal with familiar faces would take a toll on her. Even if it was only familiar eyes in the face of Lily Evans, or the familiar appearance of features in James Potter.

She would just have to avoid the girl and boy in castles, but this was the year they would fall in love with each other so she figured they'd be busy with that. From what she read, when you fell in love, you only had eyes for each other. James had a reputation for being like that already with her, so if Lily joined in on that, they would both be in a completely different world, just inhabiting the same space.

The ceiling was sparkling with colour as the day came to a close. First years were all sitting in awe of it and the food covering the table. The food she had missed, delicious delicacies smelling wonderful and overwhelming her a little bit. It was almost euphoric just letting the smell waft over her, it had been so long since she had eaten anything besides her pitiful cooking or the occasional pub food from the Leaky Cauldron.

Yet she barely ate anything, knowing what effects starving had on somebody. She would be wrecked if she ate as much as she wanted to. Part of her wondered if Ron had fallen sick when he had abandoned them for his mom. The Weasley matriarch cooking would have been stuffed in his face faster than anything she had ever witnessed at Hogwarts.

The thought made everything real again, and she pushed the barely eaten food away from her, unwilling to face the memory of her best friend who should be sitting across the table stuffing his face as usual.

"Hermione right?" the voice came from behind her. A sweet melodic voice she couldn't ignore, and she turned. Looking into the green brilliant eyes of Lily Evans made the world stop for the second time that day. She had to be her, those eyes were too similar to Harry.

Her mind flashed with her last memory of the boy, panic filling his eyes as he was taken away by Death Eaters, leaving her to torture. Echoes banging against her skull, too much now to stop, all she could do was close down. Her face was blank, she could probably play it off as shyness again, afraid to talk to strangers.

She clutched the arm with the scar as if it was giving away phantom pain as her mind literally screamed at her. The Screams of Harry and Ron mingled with the psychotic laughter of Bellatrix Black.

A shiver ran down her spine, and a strangled noise escaped.

"Hermione?" Lily inquired again.

She blinked, focusing on the present again, breathe, she told herself.

A ceiling pretending to be the sky, a sky she had spent the last half year sleeping under. Food, so much food, enough to keep her fed for years. Wizards and witches laughing, blissful. A castle, not just any castle, but Hogwarts without Death Eaters controlling it, torturing the students.

 _Safe._

She coughed, covering up the how awkward it had gotten "Yes?"

Lily smiled at her, "I'm Lily Evans, Head girl. McGonagall asked me to help you get settled in. Since we're in the same house and all."

"Thanks." she replied meekly, cursing her luck as her heart kept beating in her ears, slowly draining out the noise of screaming and helping her focus.

She gathered herself and followed Lily to the common room, looking down and only making small noises to indicate she was listening when she felt the head girl pause. They continued like that for a while, getting all the way to the common room before she stopped them.

"You don't say that much do you." Her eyes widened from looking into those eyes again, and she stuttered, taken off guard by her suddenly talking to her again.

The whole having Harry's eyes things might have been horrible for her, but it wasn't just that making it difficult for her to speak. She wasn't sure if interacting with the girl would mean something could change in the future. There was the need for getting to know her for Harry's sake, and the promise to herself.

It had also been months since she had spoken to another human being, and the scrutiny was hard.

"No." she hugged her book tighter to her chest, hoping Lily would drop it. She smiled at her and told her the password for their house motioning for her to get in.

So many people turned to look at them, one came running towards them, and Hermione jumped back and pulled her wand. She raised it threateningly, unwavering, defiantly.

Having a momentum, it was difficult to stop and he skidded to a halt, almost touching the wand he was so close. "Woah Evans, got yourself a bodyguard?" He had his hands raised in surrender, looking unsurely at the wand that was pointed between his eyes and the girl who was staring him down.

People were staring a lot more now than they were staring before.

Anxiety rushed through her veins, she could feel it pulling at her skin, making her muscles twitch. Her heart was beating against her throat, and she gasped realizing what she had done. She dropped her stance, the wand went back into her hidey-hole and she hid behind Lily, figuring the two enemies about to be lovers would be distracted enough by each other.

Memories intermingled with possible explanations she could use twirling through her brain, making her dizzy. Eyes closed against the world she barely noticed the two quarreling like she had hoped.

When she felt her breathing steadying, she looked up and noticed everyone was paying attention to Potter pleading with Lily as she argued with him.

Clutching her book tighter, she moved to her dormitory. The only one that noticed her walking was Sirius Black, his grey eyes boring into her back as she escaped unnoticed by everyone else who must have been just as curious.

Nobody else was upstairs, and after looking in through a couple of bedrooms, she finally found the one where her trunk had been placed.

She instantly went to bed, casting spell after spell on the curtains around her bed, until she felt safely warded against danger. As safe as you could feel when you were a paranoid war surviving time traveller in uncharted territory.

The next day she managed to slip by most people, sitting at the end of the table with a book as a shield. Who bothers a bookworm after all?

When Sirius Black moved closer, eyes telling her he meant to sit down next to her, she quickly swallowed the rest of her breakfast and moved away before he had a chance to say anything.

Refuge in the library was nice, it was comforting in a way that set her on edge. For how could she be relaxed. She tried to shake the feeling but couldn't, and carried it around until she went to McGonagall's office to set up her classes.

"Hello Miss Granger, please have a seat." she smiled kindly at her, maybe offering to understand for having to start Hogwarts so late.

She sat down uttering a timid "Professor."

"I see you did excellent on your O.W.L.s" she smiled at her again, and Hermione tried to mimic the movement, her muscles unused to anything resembling joy crossing her face.

"Thanks, Professor." in that same timid tired weird voice that felt so unlike her.

"What plans do you have for your future?"

She shrugged, unsure how to answer that.

"Do you know what classes you want to take?"

Hermione handed over a list, including potions, DADA, Arithmancy, and Runes.

"Impressive."

That fake smile again.

"Any questions about Hogwarts?" McGonagall tried, but she just shook her head.

The Professor sighed "How are you settling in?"

"Fine."

She scrunched her brows at her timid answer. The question of why Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor must have crossed her mind. And Hermione wished she could show how, prove why, but she was so sure that any action taken to be courageous would mean destroying the future.

 _I've battled or escaped Trolls, Basilisk, Three-Headed Dogs, Giant Chess Pieces, Centaurs, Giants, and Thestrals, but most importantly, I've survived Death Eaters._

Her scar itched again.

"Has Lily helped you get settled in?"

She nodded.

McGonogall waited, probably hoping that the silence would mean Hermione speaking up, saying something, anything.

But after months alone in a forest, the silence was preferable than speaking to old friends who didn't recognize her. Or mentors that had never before looked at her with disappointment, unless it was because of her two best friends.

McGonogall sighed, finally giving up. "You may leave."

"Thank you, Professor." Possibly the most she had said to anyone in this century.

McGonogall seemed disappointed in her newest student and didn't bother to look her way, finding some papers on her desk way more interesting.

 _It's better this way_ she told herself.

Hogwarts was easy to navigate, and she soon found herself in bed again. Nightmares didn't take her, but waking up in a room full of strangers still made her uneasy, and she quickly escaped.

In Potions Slughorn made her answer a question. Her eyes were big, doe-eyed and waiting for the attack that never came.

"Veritaserum." she supplied, voice breaking over having to suddenly use her voice again.

After class, she grabbed everything quickly, rushing away from the confused eyes of Sirius, the attentive eyes of Lily, and the curious of Evan.

Lily tried to catch up with her, but Hermione knew the castle better. She did close in on her outside the Arithmancy classroom, and class wouldn't start for at least 10 minutes. She tried to hide behind a book again, this tactic would probably make everyone wonder why she was in Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw. Being so timid would make everyone question why she wasn't in Hufflepuff.

"How did you get here so quickly?"

shrug

"What did you think of Potions?"

shrug

"Do you like Arithmancy?"

shrug

"What other classes do you have?"

shrug

"Do you wanna study together after classes?"

shake of her head, looking nervously towards the door.

"What are you reading?"

she lifted the book so she could read the cover.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at her over the book she had tried to hide behind.

"Why don't you like me?"

She sighed, not wanting to lie and say she feared her. Denying it would reap the same ramifications, so she just shrugged again. She could see how infuriated Lily was getting.

"Now you know how it feels."

Potter to the rescue!

When would she be able to escape needing a Potter to rescue her?

Clenching her fingers around her book, she stiffened and tried to read the book once more. But she kept rereading the same sentence over and over again, not noticing what it actually said.

Lily was distracted by James again, to Hermione's pleasure. She was happy that her predictions came through. Soon Lily would forget all about her. She ignored the way her heart seemed to sink at the thought, unwilling to think of why it made her so sad.

Gloating, sad and worried, she missed the green eyes of a Slytherin following her. She didn't even notice him sitting down next to her when they took their seats.

She only looked up from the book when the Professor walked in. Explaining a bunch of stuff, she was enraptured by the Professor, taking copious notes. When they were given an assignment she finally started looking around herself and noticed him sitting next to her.

She gulped.

A Slytherin paying such close attention to her was troublesome.

Especially one who gazed at her with emerald eyes, glinting dangerously. The one that had seen her scar, seen her at Malfoy Manor over Christmas, he had gotten a glimpse of her secrets.

Looking at his chiseled Prince Like features, she thought about Disney movies. Green meant evil, it meant villains, watch out you will be destroyed by them.

He smiled a dangerous smile at her, but he didn't talk.

She wasn't sure she could handle it if he tried to make conversation.

They had looked into each other's eyes for a while, the rest of the class busy with solving the was panicking, but the boy, he was relaxed, amused, _Slytherin._

With great strength she turned back down to her papers, continuing to work on the problem for a long time while he stared at her. It was hard to concentrate, he kept staring, leaning back like it was his new hobby.

'Birdwatching'

At times he would glance down at his sheet of paper, scribbling something down, and she would look at him, trying to figure him out.

At the end of the class, she wondered how the boy had managed to get into this class. How could he have gotten good enough grades for N.E.W.T. level classes with the way he worked?

"Rosier! Perfect as usual." The Professor exclaimed behind them, making Hermione jump slightly, her eyes terrified. The Professor's gaze was on the boy next to her.

Rosier, curious name.

He shrugged at the praise, meeting Hermione's eyes instead of answering. She was angry, having struggled with the question, and he just casually did it? He didn't even care about the Professor's praise, something she hungered for. Now more than ever since she had promised herself to not stand out in classes. Strange how avoiding something by your own volition made you crave it more.

His eyes glinted again.

She secretly wished her eyes looked like jewels.

* * *

 **Authors note: yay Update! I've finally figured out a name for this ship, Hevan! It makes me insanely happy to have such a cute ship name.**

 **Thanks to my followers, the people who have favorited and the wonderful reviewers; AliceEnchanted, purple breeze, and the guest reviewer!**

 **Any of those three things is what keeps authors writing here so remember to support people on here that way!**

 **Xx**


	8. Studying

There was something about her, this mudblood that hugged to the shadows. Her secrets must be many, for she hid amongst the brave lions, and what sheep would do such a thing? He heard the whispers of others, that she was a strange one to have ended up in Gryffindor, she should have been a Hufflepuff. But no other Puff had that dangerous glint in their eyes, the one that showed who was a predator, and who was prey. Those eyes were only found amongst Slytherins and Gryffindors, it was why they were always at each other's throat, fighting for who had the right to the prey, but of course Gryffs thought their intentions were a lot more noble than that. It was like they hadn't come to terms with what dangerous beast the lion inside truly was.

Looking at Hermione, he knew she was different, she knew the beast inside. She had danced with it, and now he wanted to go a round or two.

He considered himself more dangerous than the other snakes, a cobra maybe, he had not given much thought to what hypothetical animal he was within, only that it was one that ruled the others around him.

It was a patient one for sure because it whispered in his ear to be patient, to know his foe properly before pouncing.

There was only so much you could garner from outward appearance.

Looking at the ominous book, she wasn't sure it would give her the answers she was seeking. Nonetheless, Hermione picked up the strange book labeled _A history of Blood magic._

 _In the 15th century, the Ministry of Magic decided to ban the practices of Blood magic. This book delves into what it was prior to the ban, why it was banned, and the research was done by Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries that the Ministry doesn't want you to know._

Hermione wondered how a book like that had even found its way into the shelves of Hogwarts. But so far her research outside of school had yielded few results, she needed to study different things than before if she was ever to find out what happened. The few books she had read on just travelling back to the future had been highly theoretical and vague. So she had given up on that, thinking that if there was no way forward, maybe there was a way to reverse it.

She had pondered the components making up her quick escape from Bellatrix, and she had compiled a list. First off, she used two wands. Secondly, blood had poured down onto the wands. Which was why she was holding a very dangerous book that had blood dripping from its pages onto the shelf it had stood. Now it was dripping on her shoes,

Drip, Drip, Drip.

The sound seemed abysmally loud in the middle of the night. Hermione nervously looked around to see if anyone had followed her. But the only sound was the constant noise of the wind against the Windows, a comforting noise that lulled her into a sense of security at any time. She ignored the sound, trying to stay alert.

Drip, Drip, Drip, whoosh.

She shut the book, and stuffed it into her bag, spelling it so it wouldn't stain from the blood. Taking one last nervous glance around her, she tiptoed out of the restricted section, and out of the library.

It was way past curfew, she didn't want anybody knowing what books she was reading. Mentally thanking the Marauders she slipped into a hidden passageway that took her from the Library to the tower. She had quickly discovered it on the map the first time Harry had lent it to her.

It was a promise of safe passage between the two places, nobody but her used it after all.

Being somewhere safe, she went over the list in her mind again.

She still didn't know all that much about using two wands, but she figured it would have something to do with their cores. Bellatrix wand was a mystery to her, so she had shelved that for now.

She now had the book about blood magic that was a good starting point.

And then there was the spell she had mispronounced. She would have to research spells and try to find out what she could have said instead. That was the most troublesome of them because there were thousands of spells invented, and then there was the possibility she had made one up entirely on her own in that moment.

She groaned.

The last piece of the puzzle was the lack of wand movement. She knew her best bet was asking a professor. Dumbledore would know of course. But approaching Dumbledore might mean signing up for the war effort. That was unacceptable, how could she be pushed to the frontline and not try to save people she knew was going to die?

No, she needed to stay away, of that she was sure.

woosh

She turned, that noise wasn't supposed to be here, was it? Her senses tingled in an unwelcome fashion, and her body tensed.

All that was left of noise now was her breathing.

In

A dark corridor, a staircase, cold seeping into the castle.

Out

Little light, a breeze tickling her skirt, her fingers skimming the edges of the wall behind her.

In

Her skirt brushing against her upper thighs, her pulse beating against her throat, constricting it's movement when it wanted to jump out and leave her.

Out

Moisture from the castle prickling against her skin, her hair brushing it away slightly as it grew more frizzy.

In

That voice inside her head, reminding her she was just paranoid, Hogwarts was safe.

Out

Nothing.

She exhaled properly, shaking herself out of whatever state that had just been, vowing to relax a bit more.

Up a couple of more steps, around a corner, familiar abandoned hidden passageways that she knew every step of. It was so familiar it created an ache in her chest. For usually at the end of this, would be Harry and Ron telling her to drop her books and relax. Ron might give a shy smile at first when he saw her. Like she was his secret and he was hers.

Into the common corridor, she didn't miss the glint of silver around a corner. He had yet to approach her, though, so, for now, she let it be.

Stepping through the portrait hole, she was again welcomed with familiar sights and sounds. People laughing, friends sitting together, couples trying to be sneaky, and a crackling fire. Crashing around her like a storm, those things that should have been happy, but just reminded her of what should have been. Where she could have been, and that for her it didn't matter at all without Ron and Harry, life didn't matter without them.

Her chest tightened around her, killing her slightly, and she felt so small, and it had been so long since she had felt that way. The troll had bashed all of that away with the sweep of his club, and Harry clinging onto it. Ron fumbling with his wand, Hermione instructing them, and suddenly that trio bond that nobody could break.

Only time could do that.

She looked at the Marauders, the betrayer, the father, the hope, and the teacher. Their eyes were so full of mirth, off happiness, but she knew they would soon enough feel the same way as she did then, that everything was gone.

"Hermione!" she squealed and jumped back, wand immediately at Lily's throat. Why did that girl insist on being so persistent! She realized Harry had been the same way with Draco in their sixth year, different reasons, but the same result. One determined individual, and one slinking into the shadows to avoid said determined individual.

In

Lily looked fearfully at the wand on her throat.

Out.

Hermione withdrew the wand and muttered "Sorry."

"Its-" Lily straightened, taking on the role of head girl "It's alright."

Hermione gave a tight-lipped smile in response, almost thanking the girl for leaving it at that. But when she tried to walk around her and leave for her dorm, Lily wouldn't budge. Hermione sighed, waiting for Lily to get it over with. She braced herself like she was about to be tortured and had no option but to take it.

"You are not supposed to be out this late!"

Flippantly, Hermione responded "I'm not." she missed the Marauders laughing at her, she was so focused on what Lily was saying.

"You were!" Lily argued.

Knowing it would royally piss Lily off, she shrugged.

And oh did it piss her off, she swore for a second there was literal steam coming out of her ears.

"Don't make me take off house points and give you detention!"

"For what?" Hermione arched an eyebrow, undeterred by Lily's continued assault. She was more bothered by the attention their little spat seemed to garner from the rest of the room.

"For being out after hours!"

"I'm not, though." they were talking in circles, so Lily tried a different approach.

"What were you doing outside of the common room?"

Shrug

"Hermione Granger do not give me the shrug!"

Shrug

Lily was not a mother yet, and she had nothing on the motherly tone of Missus Weasley, who had 6 boys and one defiant girl to control. So her bossy tone didn't scare Hermione into submission.

"You will tell me what you were doing or I will have to give you detention."

Hermione just rolled her eyes, and this time managed to move around Lily. When the girl tried to move after her, Hermione had her wand ready and threw a langlock at Lily.

From the furious stomping, Hermione had succeeded. The Marauders were roaring with laughter by this time, and Hermione knew they would try to congratulate her if she didn't manage to escape up to the girls dormitory soon.

She was alone in the dorm again, the girls wanting to stay up late and gossip. She didn't know how long she could escape being around people, especially if Lily Evans was the example she judged everyone else by. Maybe she was their messenger, sent to get Hermione over to their side.

Her days became routine, avoid Lily, escape the Marauders, wonder what the Slytherin was up to.

Why did he continue to watch her so closely?

In all the time he had watched her, nothing stood out, nothing happened, she was just this little quiet person. Surrounded by loud obnoxious Gryffindors, his opponents in so much.

She walked to classes quicker than anybody else, and he could never seem to follow. He knew how she did it, she escaped behind a tapestry there, slid between some bricks here, and disappeared everywhere. Clearly all of it masked hidden passageways, which she knew better than anybody else in school.

Maybe not the Marauders, they seemed to have done the same over the years, but she avoided them like the plague, so she couldn't have gotten the castle's secrets from them. She had known from the start as well, in the first few days of him watching her, she had vanished quite easily. So how did she know all of that?

Then there was the library, he never saw her without a book there. The second she could be found in the library, she would have stacks of books around her, or be carrying a bunch over to a secluded table. When she was hard to find, he would see a shimmer in the restricted section, but he could never cross over to find her there. The watchful eyes of the librarian had hauled him away many times, and once he had caught Hermione smirk behind a bookshelf as he was dragged out of the library.

She seemed to follow the rules at all times, but he caught her breaking them many times. He was most surprised the time he caught Peeves throwing water balloons at people, but when Hermione passed by he didn't bother. After a while he noticed she had a peculiar way with all of the ghost, Nick adored her, Peeves revered her, The Baron bowed to her, the Grey Lady smiled at her, and Moaning Myrtle loved her. For some reason, she took the time to cultivate her relationship with Ghosts, but not people.

Even so, Gryffindors always tried to make contact with her, and she always slinked away or gave them a cold shoulder she must have learned from the ghost.

At times he would notice that their light didn't seem to reach her, and the few times he caught her eyes, he noticed that light never seemed to reach her eyes.

She had warm chocolate eyes, lulling you in by their warmth and promise of comfort, that comfort that Gryffindors seemed to crave so much. She was a mystery wrapped in dullness that would make most people yawn.

Evan had always loved a puzzle.

* * *

 **Authors Note: I promised myself I'd finish "12 Days" Before writing anything more on this, but oh how I missed Evan! So a Christmas present for you all, Merry Christmas! Thanks to everyone who has followed and faved this story, an amazing Christmas present to me! Woke up this morning and there was another follower! You make me blush!**

 **Thanks to my amazing Reviewers; Purple Breeze and the guest reviewer!**

 **Next update won't be until next year at least! (so you have to wait over a week, lol)**

 **Xx**


	9. Talking

Hermione had lately noticed how tense Hogwarts made her.

Being paranoid and alone in a forest did leave you tense, but there was also peace there, serenity almost. You only had to deal with books, shrubbery, and the occasional animal. At Hogwarts, there were death traps everywhere. Gossiping paintings, students of all ages, people that were too curious, and death eaters to be.

It's one thing to be afraid of a Death Eater sneaking up on you in a forest in your dome of protection, another completely to be forced to sit next to them in classes.

The Rosier boy hadn't stopped staring at her, hence her tense shoulders. She sometimes wondered if they would be permanently up, waiting for his move.

And then there was Lily who even with the increased increase in distractions from James Potter, still hadn't stopped trying to make contact with Hermione. She had always figured Harry had gotten his tenacious nature from James, but now she wondered if it was the combination that made Harry so completely impossible to steer away from an idea he had gotten.

"Could I borrow a pen?" his voice was masculine yet pleasing and made Hermione almost jump out of her seat.

She stared at him with her doe eyes, her mind whirling away, and still not catching what he was saying. He arched an eyebrow in amusement and asked again.

Her mouth felt so dry "What?"

"Quill?"

"I-"

"Simple question really would think a girl in Arithmancy wouldn't be stumped by such a simple request." He teased, _teased!_

She passed him one of her extra quills, carefully and meticulously laid out in front of her, and knocked over her ink pot to spill all over his notes. "oh!" she exclaimed, surprised and alarmed by it all. She was sure she hadn't put the pot there, how stupid of her.

The Slytherin, _Rosier,_ looked at his notes and with too much calm simply said: "Guess I'll have to borrow your notes then."

Narrowed eyes in suspicion, Hermione waved her wand and left his notes to spill free, perfectly fine. His eyes shot up and seemed almost angry at what she had done. His tone was no longer pleasant when he said: "thank you."

Unsure of what else she could do, she jerked her head and then returned to writing down what the teacher was lecturing. The rest of the class she noticed how his shoulder was now as tense as hers.

For some reason, that helped her relax a fraction.

* * *

A couple of days later, he talked to her again.

"You left your book in Potions." He handed her the book she could have sworn she put in her bag earlier. Stumped by how he had left before her as well, did he think she was stupid?

She took the book and jerked her head at him in a form of thanks, studying him but not saying anything. She pulled away but wasn't about to turn her back on the enemy.

"Polite thing is to thank me." He said, and almost seemed mad at her.

"For stealing my book?" A twitch let her know he hadn't expected her to call him out on it.

"For giving it back." He replied, still just as casual.

She paused, and they stared at each other, him still waiting for her to thank him. Instead, she threatened him.

"Don't do it again."

"Why? What will you do?" he challenged, his eyes glinting like he had won a prize.

She stared at him, not going to give into him, and unsure what exactly she would do.

"Last time you tried to hex me it backfired." He smirked at her, and she could feel her blood boiling.

"That was a mistake."

"What were you doing there?"

"None of your business."

"Oh, I think it is my business Mudblood."

She opened her mouth to retort, but they ceased to be alone in front of the D.A.D.A. Classroom. The Marauders and Lily had shown up, Lily getting close to Hermione, making her skin itch, and she tugged the scarred arm close. Still staring at Rosier she noticed his eyes shooting to it, and his subsequent smirk having confirmed she kept it a secret.

"Hermione," Lily said and put her hand on her shoulder, a hand she shrugged away.

Rosier stared at her again, a strange gleam in his eyes that made her heart thud against her throat, fear to tingle through her a little bit, even with the others there.

"Hermione!" Lily repeated, and she finally tore her eyes away from Rosier.

"Yes?" she snapped, but Lily didn't seem to react as badly as she was prone to in the beginning.

"He's not worth it." She pleaded, apparently Lily had caught onto something between them.

"How would you know Evans?" His voice was even silkier with the other girl, and Hermione noticed a chill running through Lily. Strange seeing such a reaction from the otherwise confident woman. Rosier must have a history with her, or in this school. History one only is privy to when they actually _talk_ to other people.

"Back of Rosier." James to the rescue once more, and then the two started arguing. Lily mad at him for not trusting her to take care of herself among other things. Hermione stared at the Slytherin, infuriated by his smirk like this was all going according to plan.

Because he had plans for her, that was sure.

The other Gryffs interference didn't bother him all that much, he had noticed a lot about her in the short time they had talked of course.

Her fear of discovery the one thing he could always count on, and the fact that even with how little he knew about her, it was more than anyone else at the school.

He wanted to be the first to know all of her secrets.

When she looked at him again he smirked at her and noticed that her responding scowl did strange things to him.

Oh no, he wanted to be the only one to find out all of her secrets.

* * *

A week later he had cornered her in a deserted corridor. For all her sneaking around did hide her away, but it also left her all alone most of the time.

"What do you want from me?"

"What does a man usually want from a woman?" Instead of blushing like he thought she would, she stared at him, level, clear-headed, infuriating.

"Satisfaction." His heart jumped, he excused it as his imagination.

He cleared his throat, unused to such a sharp retort from someone that usually seemed so timid. Oh, he knew she wasn't, but it was so rare to see her mask slip, to become that girl with the wand to protect a house elf.

"But this is not about that."

"Oh?" he inquired, curious to her thoughts, he moved closer. As if the movement could enlighten him to what it was she was hiding.

She moved back in the hallway, not backing up to the wall like he had hoped, but sidestepping elegantly, leaving her free to retreat easily if need be. "What does a Slytherin want with a Gryffindor?"

He laughed and she clutched her book tighter, telling him a lot about her. She was still hiding, but now she was no longer out of sight, at Hogwarts there were few places to hide. So she had chosen books to hide in.

"What does a Pureblood want from a Mudblood?" he said and moved closer once more. But that word did not make her sad, did not make her retreat, the desired effect was her becoming defensive.

Hermione was not one to do as everyone else would have. Suddenly her book, her shield, was gone, and her wand was out.

"Never anything good." she said, wrist loose, ready to curse him if he did a wrong move.

"What if it was?" He smirked.

"Guess I'll never find out." elegant perfect movement and sparks flew out of her wand, momentarily blinding him. He turned away, shielding his eyes. When he could see again, there was nothing left to see.

Curse it all.

She had escaped the annoying Slytherin, only to find herself stuck in a secret passage, hearing footsteps nearing her. It was too narrow to sidestep someone easily by hiding in the shadows. Not willing to go back and possibly have to face Rosier again, she braced herself and stood still, wand hidden just in case.

"Hermione?"

She knew that voice. Unusual pitch compared to her memories, and lighter by not losing his best friends, Sirius Black stood in the hallway.

"Hi." was all she could manage, and she tried to move around him, but he blocked her.

"What are you doing here?"

"On my way to the common room."

"Ah, I meant, in this passage."

"Don't see how that would effect my answer." she quipped and wrinkled her nose in annoyance when she realized this was not the response she should have given Sirius Black.

He smirked, and she sighed in annoyance at Wizards. "How did you find this place?"

"By looking." in for a penny, in for a pound. She tried to move around him again, but he blocked her again.

"Do you always go looking for secret dark hallways?"

"Not when I've already found them."

"Wanna go looking for some more?"

"No."

"Why not?" He sounded genuinely surprised by her response, and if it hadn't been so dark she would probably have seen a frown on his beautiful face.

She rolled her eyes and tried again to move around him, quicker, this time, she managed to get to his side. Yet he was just as quick and boxed her in between his arms and the wall.

"Seems like you planned this Miss Granger." he practically purred.

"I'm not the stalker here."

"Are you saying I am?"

"Yes."

"So you've noticed me watching you."

She sighed. "Let me go."

"Why?" He moved closer, and she stretched upwards like it would make her smaller and get her further away from him. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Gee a dark tunnel, nobody around and a guy that won't let me leave, nothing to be afraid of here."

Immediately he moved back and gave her space she so desperately longed for. Instead of moving she stood there perplexed. She wished she could see his face, figure out what was going on with him. Then she remembered herself, and her vow to stay in the shadows.

She only took one step when she heard "I'm sorry."

She turned her head, but the only thing she could see was that he had his head bent.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't." Only the fact that this place was so eerily quiet enabled Sirius to hear what she had said, it was barely above a whisper. He looked up at her, and she remembered the way he had looked at her when she saved him from the Dementors so long ago, and so far into the future. Those puppy eyes that seemed so broken, like they had given up on redemption years ago.

"Why are you leaving then?" his voice had that same tone to it as when he had thanked her for saving his life.

"Because I have to."

"You don't have to."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain."

"I can't."

"Try."

He reached for her, and it snapped her out of whatever sort of moment they had just then, and she withdrew suddenly. Without saying another word, she left him there in that dank place, feeling guilty and hoping he could forgive her someday. While another part of her hoped he didn't so he would stay away.

* * *

 **Authors Note: I know it's been so long since I updated, and I have to apologize. I've just been so lost and Idk what is going on with me but for some reason, I am just completely unable to write anything. This did not flow easily like all the other chapters (of all my stories) have done. I am feeling slightly better so that's how I managed this, but I can't promise frequent or speedy updates.**

 **What I can promise is that none of my stories are abandoned, if something ever happens that stops me from continuing the story, I promise to post everything I have so that you can, at least, get some closure on the story.**

 **Thanks to my reviewers; AliceEnchanted, purple breeze, marianna79, and angel897**

 **PS: I update Twitter (not so often) and Tumblr (where you can find aesthetics and excerpts from future chapters) so if you need an extra fix or update on any of my stories I recommend checking them out. They are both under Lenore483**

 **Edited all chapters with the help of Grammarly. Should be fewer errors, but the program isn't flawless (and neither am I).**

 **Xx**


	10. Prying

Crap she was late!

Rushing through the halls, she tried to fix her uniform somewhat, with little luck. Her book bag was hanging around her elbow, she kept trying to hoist it up on her shoulder, but her unbuttoned, scrunched up robes made it slip. The bag kept banging against her knees, sometimes knocking her leg into the other, making her stumble and curse under her breath. She checked her watch just to find she didn't have one on, so instead she started calculating how late she was exactly. Numbers running through her head kept her a little distracted from the nagging voice in her head counting up all the reasons she was late, and how much of a failure she was because of it.

Her shoelace came untied and she bit her lip in contemplation, but instead of tying it up, she opted for running even more awkwardly than before, trying to avoid stepping on said shoelace. She dragged her hand along her neck to get her hair from underneath her shirt, almost getting caught in the tangle of her untamed hair. When she woke up she had just scrambled around trying to find clothes and fit all her books in the bag.

Finally, she got to class, just 5 minutes late. She exhaled at last, seemed she hadn't missed much. Her tardiness still got her detention and a cut in house points, but the adrenaline in her veins and the sweat warm as it slipped down her skin underneath her robes, were enough of a distraction to not stress about it. At least not at that moment.

She walked further into the room and saw that there were only two seats available.

Next to Rosier or Sirius.

Fuck

Raised eyebrows from the Slytherin, did she actually curse out loud? She _never_ cursed, what had the 70's done to her?! Could she blame the 70's, or was it her recent fall from grace that had started it all?

She narrowed her eyes at Rosier, the smirking bastard. He might not have been the one to blame, but he had been there to witness it all—from her fall into the past, to her cursing just now. That was enough to redirect her anger from herself to him.

Would she regret sitting down next to him at her own free will?

Evan knew he needed an answer to a couple of questions, and he wanted them now. To his delight, the teacher announced that they should pair up with their desk partner and discuss the latest homework assignment.

Hermione, of course, opened her book and started asking him about what they homework was. She didn't look up, and sounded clinical and impassive. That wouldn't do at all.

Time to start this game. "How does a Mudblood only get into Hogwarts in her 7th year?"

His question took her by surprise, so her only response was, "What?"

"You obviously have some experience with spells and duelling," Evan continued. During his interrogation of her, he adopted a casual pose by leaning back and propping his feet up on the table in front of him. In response, she wrinkled her nose at the close proximity with his feet.

"Maybe I went to a different school before," she said, while she still stared at his feet with disgust. It was so easy to push her buttons.

"In Britain?" he questioned.

"What makes you think that."

"Well, you're obviously British."

"Obviously," she drawled and looked up at him. Surprisingly, her eyes seemed just as disgusted by him as his feet. At least she was consistent, he thought.

"Where are you from exactly?" His eyes roved over her body in another attempt to make her uncomfortable. Once more, it didn't have the desired effect. Instead of answering, she picked up her book and rifled through it.

"Back to ignoring me?"

"Mhm," she hummed, while she flicked a page and made a note.

He mock-sighed. "Guess I'll just have to content myself with finding another partner."

"Guess so."

"Hopefully, Sirius will be more eager to answer my questions."

"Didn't think you swung that way," she replied with ease. How he adored the way she quipped so easily while she concentrated on something else. The insinuation that he was interested in Sirius Black wasn't that insulting, in pureblood society it seemed better to be interested in the same gender than one of impure blood—just as long as it didn't hinder you reproducing.

"I am curious why you picked me over him," he pondered out loud. That had the desired effect, she almost dropped her book.

She gulped but tried to act unaffected by straightening up. "Maybe I prefer Slytherins over Gryffindors." Her voice quivered, so there was a lie there, alongside a secret.

"Is this you admitting you like me, Mudblood?"

She seemed surprised he used the insult with ease in a crowded classroom and confused when no one picked up on it. It was funny, he had done the same before without batting an eye, so why was she more aware of it this time?

"Why do you ask, do you like me?" she responded but it didn't hold the same conviction she had earlier.

"I'm not interested in Mudbloods," he said and pointed to her chest. "But I can appreciate a nice pair of tits when I see them."

She almost jumped in her seat at his proclamation before she looked down. Seems like she had missed a button, but she buttoned it now that he had brought her attention to it. Maybe he should have waited to say something so he could have continued enjoying the sight. Nevertheless, now was the perfect opportunity to unnerve her some more.

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "Black underwear, are you dressing for someone specific?"

This time, she did jump back. "Creep," she accused and shifted away from him, but he leaned in closer. His breath still ghosting across her ear.

"A girl only buys black underwear for a specific man to see."

When she blushed he thought he was going to lose his composure completely.

She had bought it with someone in mind.

Back when she thought they had a chance, she had bought it for Ron to see. At the thought, her emotions went haywire; at first, she was ashamed that she was so easy to see through; then she was sad that she would never get together with Ron unless she found a way back; that lead to her feeling guilty for leaving them alone, even if it was in the future; at last, she was angry with the Slytherins that had forced her hand.

"Where is this man that has caught the Mudbloods attention?" he teased in her ear, still uncomfortably close.

She slammed her hand on the desk to cut him off and turned her quill into a spoon. She looked at her hand and saw that she had her wand in it. She must have flicked her wrist to make it land in her hand when she got angry and had a Slytherin inching closer.

Survival instinct.

Would she ever learn to live without looking over her shoulder?

She turned her head to come in close contact with the Slytherin that had been whispering in her ear. They were so close their noses were almost touching.

"Granger, are you alright?" She turned to see that Sirius was standing by her desk, looking at her with concern. His eyes would occasionally move to where Rosier was still leaning close to her.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice was harsh and made Sirius visibly flinch.

Before he could answer, the teacher had come over. "Why aren't you with your partners, Mister Black?"

"Granger seemed to need my help," Sirius said, but stopped, not sure what he could say to a teacher. She could see it in his eyes, he knew that if he said the Slytherin was threatening her when there didn't seem to be anything going on, Sirius would be the only one to get in trouble.

"She seems fine, now go back to your desk before I give you detention."

Sirius tried to protest but was cut off with a, "Now, Mister Black," from the teacher.

With a downcast head, Sirius shuffled back to his own desk. Rosier snickered at him when he looked back at Hermione and him with a mournful look.

"What did you do to him?"

In response, Hermione pushed him away from her. "None of your business, Rosier."

"Ooooh, touchy subject." He put his feet up on the desk again and put his hands in his trouser pockets. "Guess he didn't like the underwear."

Hermione couldn't help that her lip quirked up in a smile at his joke. It was horribly crude and inappropriate. She looked back at Rosier and saw that he was smiling a genuine smile at her. Uncomfortable with their sudden ease, and her momentary lapse in judgement, she turned forwards again and continued writing her notes. For the rest of the class, she ignored him and he stared at her. When class was over, he matched her footsteps and pace, as if he was following her to the door.

The exit wasn't big enough for both of them to pass through at the same time, so she stopped and looked up at him. His eyes were full of mirth when he gestured for her to go first. She arched an eyebrow at him but stayed silent. As she always did, she first mingled with the crowd before she slipped into a hidden passage to move unobstructed and alone through the castle.

Left to her thoughts, she pondered the strange events of that day. She swore to herself that it was just the intensity of the morning that had made her temporarily insane—enough that she thought Rosier could be funny, or worse, charming.

Maybe the isolation had driven her to be desperate for companionship, even if it was in the form of a sneaky snake.

* * *

 **AN: Yay back with another Chapter!**

 **Don't worry, I still have a lot planned for this, I have just been caught up in competing in the QLFC and writing for various forums. There are so many brilliant ones on this site, and I have somehow joined 4 of them and become mod on one of them. I am even becoming a mod at a new forum that should be up soon, a forum I am very excited for. Thanks to my lovely reviewers; Lokilette, AliceEnchanted, purple breeze, angel897 and SoulSiphon! I'm not sure I managed to respond to all of you, and I am terribly sorry about that, just know that I loved every single word and it made me write a lot faster.**

Written with these prompts in mind:

Diagon Alley II:  
Multichapter - Begin this chapter in medias res

Gringotts:

Prepositions - Alongside / Words instead of said - whispered / Words instead of laughed - snickered / Words instead of walked - shuffled

Xx


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